contact part deux

[bouchonne]

if this were modern times byerly would probably make you listen to total eclipse of the heart before you were able to leave a message

Comments

[bouchonne]

Rude.

[bouchonne]

[ Bluntly: ]

That's not a good thing, Vanadi.

[bouchonne]

You could eat anchovy every day and wash as rarely as that Edgard fellow. You could be followed around by a children's choir that's constantly singing.

[ He returns to massaging that foot as they move away from sincerity and into something far more comfortable. ]

You could let your toenails grow out five inches.

[altusimperius]

What?

[bouchonne]

You're supposed to say, no, Byerly, you're astounding and perfect in every way.

[altusimperius]

I don't get paid enough for that.

[bouchonne]

You're going to get paid even less in a minute.

[altusimperius]

[bouchonne]

Actually, do you get paid anything?

[altusimperius]

[altusimperius]

No, Byerly, I wander the streets begging for booze money from kind strangers.

[bouchonne]

Elfroot money, more like.

[altusimperius]

...maybe both?

[bouchonne]

Anyway, you know you're not allowed outside.

[altusimperius]

[That stings a little, but he tries not to show it.]

...I am, with an escort.

[bouchonne]

Oh, don't sulk. That was funny.

[altusimperius]

I'm not sulking,

[highborn]

Ah, but just wait for the best part -- [ He dredges up a wry smile aimed for the edge of his bowl. ] I don't want to be alone. That's the motivation behind going with her.

[cozen]

[ Snickering: ] Eww.

[ He wiggles his toes again—nails neatly trimmed, thank you—and the feigned cockiness bleeds out of him, even though he doesn’t move much. What’s left behind is settled and happy, relaxed from the foot up, watching Byerly’s eyelashes move. ]

Well, you could grow your hair long and begin braiding it into your beard. Just one long uninterrupted— [ a hand is freed from behind him to illustrate the sweep of hair from head down to chest. ] Or you could become that fellow who is always laughing loudly at the wrong moment at the theatre. You could insist on calling your dick Little Byerly. You could even make me do it.

[bouchonne]

You - wouldn't be alone.

[ He hates that guilty little hitch in his voice. Fuck's sake, when did he get so soft and mealy? ]

[highborn]

No, you're right, I wouldn't be literally alone, there's an entire Gallowsfull of people about. [ He shrugs faintly. ] You must know what I mean.

[bouchonne]

[ He does. And that's what makes him feel guilty. He's still got that itch of discomfort over the fact that - well, that Vanadi loved him. Or says he did. And for Byerly, it had been just a pleasant little fling.

(And so what? How many relationships have been like that in the past? Maker.) ]

It could be a fine opportunity to meet more people. You don't want your only friend to be the person you're screwing. It makes things extra miserable if something goes wrong.

[bouchonne]

I guess your face is naturally like that.

[altusimperius]

[Well now he's sulking.]

[highborn]

[ With a huff of offense, only half in play: ] Byerly, please. I have friends -- you're a friend. That isn't the issue.